Easier said than done. But it must be done.

The last thing on my mind this morning was gratitude. In fact, the first thing on my mind was a string of curse words. While I didn’t let them escape my lips, I felt that if an innocent bystander were to view my body language, they would probably be offended. I was stressed. Angry. Irritated. I slammed doors. I barked commands at my daughters. We had to get out the door NOW! We were going to be late for the doctor! Shoes ON! Coats ON! I was frustrated with the situation, not with them. We’re going on week number three of illness in my house, and the pressures of care taking are starting to wear on me. Little sleep. Constant demands for attention. To-do lists with little actually done. …

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“Run the bathwater. She’s puking again.” Not quite the way I envisioned our Christmas morning to end. Santa had come, the gifts had been opened. Breakfast consumed. Our toddler just got over a five-day stomach bug of doom four days ago, and I was ready for the Lysol/non-stop laundry days to be over. But once again, she was throwing up. I knew it was probably a new virus, one picked up from one of several family Christmas parties we had attended over the weekend.

After a phone call to my parents, my fears were validated. “Everyone’s got it over here. I’m the only one not sick…yet,” my brother quietly said over the line. Everyone there was sleeping off a night of sickness. We’d all squished into my parent’s living room the evening before, sharing laughter, food …

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WARNING: YOU PROBABLY DON’T WANT YOUR CHILDREN UNDER 10 READING THIS IF THEY’RE STILL FANS OF THE MAN IN RED.

Image from MyLot.com

If there’s one thing I admire about parents, it’s their refusal to “parent by default.” That is, they take a stand for something, anything, and give it their best shot to not let society trample their beliefs. They avoid activities they deem inappropriate, educate their children about their beliefs, and oftentimes have to duck and dodge popular culture with its ever-present marketing messages. It’s tough. But they’re trying. They question popular toys or customs, and don’t automatically participate just because “all the other parents are doing it.”

A friend of mine is one such parent. She and her spouse want their children to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas, Christ’s birth. And they don’t want them distracted with …

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She looked so sweet, and smelled so…bad.

My sweet toddler has been sick for four days now. And if you’re squeamish, you may not want to read any further. But if you’re a new parent, or considering parenthood, I strongly urge you to hold your lunch and read on. After all, I believe expectation management is the key to happiness. If you know what’s coming, you’ll be better able to handle the “joys” of parenthood. Here is what you can expect when your little one gets a super nasty stomach bug, especially if they’re able to run through the house (while vomiting), yet not able to reason quite yet (around 18 months old or so).

Your child may seem cranky/irritated leading up to getting sick, but they can’t tell you they’re getting ready to throw …

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See that one in the back? She’s one of Mr. Sandman’s best secret weapons. She’s already plotting to wake up her sister!

Dear Mr. Sandman,

Well, you’ve done it again. You’ve managed to elude me for the third night in a row. No, make that the third year in a row. Who do you think you are, anyways? You think you’ve got a monopoly on sleep? Huh? You think I can’t go somewhere else to place my order? Ok, so you kind of do have a tight grip on this whole nighttime gig. But there’s got to be someone else out there, there’s got to be! You don’t own me! We didn’t sign a contract!

Sigh. I guess we did sign a contract. Or at least, we renegotiated. Back in the day, after I got married. You …

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I am SO in love with these sweet sisters. My children. My heart.

There are times when things settle down, when the crying subsides, when the whining takes a break, and I can simply enjoy the presence of my children. We’re entering an “easier” season of parenthood, sure to be followed by a hard one. But I don’t want to worry about that. I just want to enjoy. Things are still crazy, still hectic, still messy, but either it’s getting better, or I’ve just adjusted my outlook and am better able to cope. Either way, it’s a blessing.

Daily, sometimes hourly tantrums have gone to weekly. Constant monitoring has gone to frequent sideways glances (as I hear a bowl of dry Cheerios spill in the next room). Things aren’t easy, but they’re easier. I’m only getting …

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